I’m angry, people. Really angry. Like, Lisa Lampanelli-type angry. I was going to try and be professional and not let my personal beef get in the way of performing a serviceable recap, but I just can’t hold it in any longer, so here it is. DAMN YOU, ROBBIE MYERS! TAKE A HIKE, ELLE MAGAZINE! You know, I don’t ask for a lot in life, but here I am dedicating my weekends to a television show about D-list celebrities extolling the virtues of touch screen hair dryers, and for what? To watch Robbie Myers swoop in and steal all the glory?
I remember a few years back when they put the contestants through a country music project that involved them having to deal with interviews by an entertainment journalist. And who performed the interviews? My arch nemesis Cynthia Sanz from People magazine! (True, I had no idea who she was before the episode aired, but as soon as Sanz got to log serious Celebrity Apprentice minutes, she became my immediate arch nemesis.) Granted, the woman has hardcore credentials as a country music writer and the only time I ever wrote about country music was to describe the time Kenny Chesney forced me to get wasted on homemade moonshine.
So maybe I wasn’t exactly “qualified” or “knowledgeable” on the subject. Perhaps I wouldn’t really “know” what I was “talking about.” So the hell what? It’s not like any of the actual contestants on this show are qualified, so I think I would have fit right in. I was about as jealous as jealous can be (Side note: I took my daughter Violet to a Taylor Swift concert last year and who did I end up sitting right next to? Cynthia Sanz! I briefly considered taking her down somewhere in between “You Belong with Me” and “Love Story” but restrained myself so that my poor daughter wouldn’t have to see daddy taken away in handcuffs. SAAAAANNNNNZZZZZZZZ!!!)
Now, here comes Ms. Fancy Pants Robbie Myers. Not only does she get to appear on the best television show in the history of television. Not only does she get to judge a task. But she gets to hang out with the ultimate pimp daddy — Farouk Shami! This is the biggest travesty of all. Farouk and I would have totally hit it off. I don’t know if he would have had to carry around a bucket to collect his rivers of drool like he did whenever in the presence of Aubrey O’Day, but we would have had a major bromance. I can just picture Farouk and I chillin’, drinking Dom Perignon out of our matching red leather cowboy boots, and making million dollar bets about who can score Amanda’s the receptionist’s digits. Before it was all said and done, he would have personally financed our own buddy cop movie titled Farouk Assault. (It would have tanked at the box office and nobody would have gotten the Willa Wonka pun in the title, but it totally could find a second life as a cult favorite on DVD.)
I know, I know, doing a four-page hair dryer spread in Entertainment Weekly makes no sense, but that won’t stop me from being supremely jealous. (I’m not even talking to my wife now because she used to be the Editor-in-Chief of Elle Girl magazine and I therefore now consider her guilty by association.) It also won’t stop me from presenting my five favorite things about this week’s episode. And off we go!
NEXT: Aubrey has a big admirer…other than herself